


The Only Song I Want To Hear

by Kate_Monster



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Monster/pseuds/Kate_Monster
Summary: Even in captivity, surprises are revealed, and promises are kept. A companion piece to Fortune and the Wolf that reveals the parts Homer didn't see between Rachel and Scott.





	1. Part I: The Pact

“Can you not do that some other time? Like when I’m sleepin’?”

Rachel froze. She had been rubbing her pencil on the edge of her cot, trying to sharpen it. “Sorry. Thought you were.”

“Not anymore, when you’re makin’ that racket,” Scott grumbled. He sat up on his cot and looked around, blinking. “He still ain’t back?”

“It’s been a long time now,” Rachel said quietly. She glanced over to check, even though she already knew what she would see. Homer’s cell was still empty. She studied her pencil. “Maybe he’s on to something this time.” 

“Or, maybe he always takes forever,” Scott pointed out. “Dude’s had, like, the exact same story the last three times he went out. He ain’t gettin’ nowhere.”

 “It never took this long before, though.” Did it? She sighed and started rubbing the pencil again. Scott’s forehead furrowed as he watched her.

 “When are you gonna give up on that thing? It’s pretty much dead.”

“You said that the last five times I ran out. I think I’ve still got a little more to go.”

“Why are you so persistent with that thing, anyway?” he asked, gesturing to the Bible that was lying forgotten on her cot. “Ain’t like it’s goin’ with us.”

 “You don’t know that,” she said firmly, “and still, it’s a record. It’s evidence. Who knows? Maybe we get rescued in this dimension somehow.”

“Sure,” he said. “You keep waitin’ for that.”

They lapsed into silence. Rachel moved to the planter and dug another small hole in the soil to conceal the pencil, then stopped at the wall of Homer’s empty cell to survey the scene. OA was pressed up against his wall from the other side, sound asleep, her breath softly fogging up the glass in his absence. It really _had_ been a long time. Maybe too long. But then, it always felt like that after awhile, no matter who was gone. She swallowed and went to sit back down on her own cot, staring up at the ceiling of her cell.

After a few minutes, she glanced back at Scott. He had disappeared beneath his blanket and fallen still and quiet. Maybe, if he was really asleep, she could start working on the pencil again. She rose and tiptoed back to the center of the cage. “Scott?” she whispered faintly.

“What?” He pulled his head out from the blanket, looking angry. “Kinda busy over here.”

“Oh,” she said, flustered, raising her hands in an apology. “My bad.”

“Can’t even get no privacy around here no more,” Scott grumbled.

“Privacy?” Rachel asked with a short laugh. “You? I remember someone stripping nude and jacking off right against his wall in front of the rest of us not too long ago.”

“Well,” Scott said patiently as he sat up, “That’s only cause someone set up a camcorder pointed at me right outside my cell, and I didn’t care for it.”

“Yeah, but _you_ turned it into a full-on porno.”

“He deserved it, and you thought it was funny.”

“But it didn’t work.” She pointed to the camera, which was still positioned outside his cell.

“That’s the best I got. If any of the rest of you want to try, be my guest.”

Rachel shrugged. “There’s probably guys who would pay a lot of money to see Renata do that.”

“You bet. Hell, I’m one.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “You’re just horny and desperate.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Scott grumbled. He rose to his feet and started to slowly stalk the perimeter of his cell. “And I ain’t in denial ‘bout it, neither.”

She smirked. “Whatever you were doing under that blanket, there was definitely no denial happening.”

“Ha ha,” he said, without a trace of humor in his tone. “Look. You gotta remember. Long as I been here... well, before I got here…”

“Right. I’m sure you were a monk,” Rachel said.

“Hey,” he said, irritated, “when I got sick, it kinda put a crimp in things. You know?”

She had forgotten about that. He didn’t talk about it much. She leaned back against her glass facing him, and folded her arms. “I thought they had ways of being safe now."

“I don’t trust none of that,” he said, dismissive.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. “That’s actually kinda sweet of you,” she said seriously. “Being respectful of others.”

He scowled. “If I was a saint, I wouldn’t of been in this situation in the first place.”

“But you still have a good heart, you know. In spite of everything. That’s what makes you an angel.”

Scott’s face went blank. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking.” She could see his discomfort and pressed on. “But whatever happened, you’re better now. Right? So I guess that means…” She shrugged.

“You think that wasn’t, like, the first thing that occurred to me after everything happened?” he asked. “Maybe the third. Whatever. Yeah.” He shook his head. “I decided a long time ago. First thing I’m gonna do when I get out of here, don’t care what dimension we’re in, I’m gonna bang the living daylights outta something or somebody. Whatever it takes. I ain’t waitin’ around.”

“Tell me about it,” Rachel sighed.

“Seriously?” Scott stopped by the wall and studied her with sudden, sharp interest.  
  
“Girls can get horny, too, you know,” she said pointedly. 

“All right.” He folded his arms and leaned against the glass separating him from OA’s cell. “Tell me this, then. Would you ever sleep with a guy?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rachel said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve done it before.”

“You have?” Scott asked in surprise. “Whoa. Wait, wait wait. How come we never knew that?”

She shook her head dismissively. “Oh, come on. You guys knew that.”

“Did not! Who on your list of seven people that you slept with was a guy?”

“Jamie Kent.”

Scott gasped out loud. “Jamie was a _dude_?”

“Pretty sure, yep.”

“I always thought Jamie was a chick.”

“You _assumed_ Jamie was a chick,” Rachel corrected. “I don’t believe you ever actually asked. Cause if you’d had, I would have told you. Jamie Kent was definitely, a hundred percent, a dude.”

“Hold up,” Scott said, waving a hand in the air. “Are you gay, or not?”

Rachel gave an impatient sigh. “Okay, first of all, it’s a spectrum, second, I’m sure I never told you I only liked girls, and three, I think you’re a little too interested in this right now.” 

“Well, this is, like, a major revelation,” Scott said. His eyes were still wide with bafflement.

She sat up and rolled her eyes at him. “Fine. I do like girls, Scott. But at this point? I’d probably sleep with anyone who was down for it. I mean, wouldn’t you?”

“God, yes,” he said emphatically. There was silence for a few moments as they both contemplated this. “You know,” he finally said, “we could make a pact.” 

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Scott-” 

“I’m serious. If we ever get out of here, first chance we get, you and me. Five minutes. That’s probably all I need. Maybe not even that long, honestly. How about you?”

“Scott!” she gasped, clapping a hand over her eyes with feigned embarrassment.

“What?” he protested. “It don’t have to mean nothin’. You can picture me as someone else if you want. That’s okay.”

Rachel sighed heavily, rubbed her eyes, and shook her head.

“I mean,” he continued slowly, “if I’m not up to your standards…”

“That is not it,” she said in a rush.

“So then what are you so worried about?”

She looked back up at him. “I am not any better than you, Scott Brown, and don’t you _dare_ put those words in my mouth.”

“Okay then.” He swung his arms slowly, pumping them in time with his words. “So, let’s go over this one more time. I like to sleep with girls, you _sometimes_ sleep with guys, _apparently_ , and it’s been way too long for both of us. So. Why not?”

Rachel looked away, her mind racing. He was right. It had been a long time. As caustic as he could be at times – well, most of the time, really - she still trusted Scott in a way she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to trust anyone again. She knew without words that he did care about her, and he would never do anything deliberately to hurt her. And she couldn’t deny there were times where she watched him dancing and the way his ass flexed under his pants, and maybe it did spark a little bit of something. Maybe she wouldn’t say no this time. 

She finally turned back to him with determination.

“Deal,” she said. He brightened up considerably. “You and me. Soon as we’re free, we help each other take the edge off, so we can move on with our lives.”

“Yes!” He pumped his fist. “I’m gettin’ nooky.” 

“No. No way. Scott. You are _not_ allowed to call it that.” 

“Kay.” He dropped his fist, a little too quickly.

She waggled a finger at him. “And I don’t want to hear you mumbling my name out loud next time you’re jacking off over there, either.”

“Hey. I’m not some cretin, you know,” Scott said, feigning offense. “I respect my women.” 

Rachel laughed. “Oh. Okay. I’m _your_ woman now?”

He grinned at her, but it was gentle this time, and she thought about what he had just admitted, about his own celibacy. It was true. For all his thorniness, there really was a tender side to him that managed to poke through every once in awhile, when he couldn't help himself. “You’re always my woman. Pact or no pact. Gay, or bi, or whatever the hell you wanna be. Whether or not I’m up to your standards.”

“Thanks,” Rachel said. “…I think.”

“I’ll take care of you, too.” His grin widened. “Don’t worry about that.”

“You know,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I think you’re getting a little too into this for my taste.”

“Okay, fine,” he said. “We don’t never have to talk about it again, til we get out of here.”

“Good,” she said, satisfied.

“But I’m holdin’ you to it.”

“Sure.” She smiled at him, finally. “I hope you will.”

 


	2. Part II: The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in captivity, freedom can be found, and promises can be made.

_Eight months later…_

Rachel studied Homer’s face as he sank back on the floor, his hollow, blank stare fixed on the grainy TV she had just switched on.

Homer was changing. Any life he’d ever shown had gone out of him over the past few days, first with losing OA, and now with this strange set of new circumstances, this new location, and with the threats from these new people Hap had brought in to control them while he moved them to… well, wherever they were going to end up.

Whatever Homer had seen while he was waiting for them to awaken, he wasn’t going to discuss it. That much was clear. It didn’t matter. Nothing would change the fact that things were changing, and that was terrifying enough. They’d lost one person, and pledged their loyalty to each other in her absence, and Rachel still wasn’t sure what any of that meant now.

She wanted to reach out to Homer, to hold him again, to comfort him, to reassure him, but he was looking away, lost, and it didn’t seem like the right moment. His eyes focused on the television, and she folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t know what to do for him.

There was so much she couldn’t do.

She looked up and noticed that Scott was also studying Homer. Their eyes met for a brief moment, then he glanced away quickly, just like he had so many times when their eyes had met over the last several months, like he knew she was about to catch him looking back at her and wanted to avoid any awkwardness.

It all came back to her in a flash, and with it, came her decision.

There _was_ something she could do – for Scott, at least. She had made him a promise, and she would keep it.

She motioned her head slightly towards the bathroom. He looked back at her quizzically.

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

He shrugged, perplexed.

“Pact,” she mouthed to him.

He looked back and forth from Renata to Homer, then back to her. He shook his head, his eyes going wide. “No,” he mouthed back, silent.

She raised her eyebrows, encouraging him, waiting.

“But, what about-?” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door, toward Hap and the other men who had locked them in.

Rachel shrugged, and let her eyes cast around the room before looking back at him, as if to say, “They’re not here, and we are.”

He continued to shake his head slowly, trying to process. Rachel rose to her feet and waited for a moment, enjoying his shocked reaction to her sudden commitment. His eyes finally settled, making a decision of his own, and he stood as well.

Rachel led the way into the bathroom. He moved past her and she closed the door, studying him.

“We don’t know how much time we have-” she whispered, breathless, as she reached for his hands, but he yanked them back. “What’s wrong?”

Scott raised his hands in defense, palms toward her. “What exactly are you tryin’ to do here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He continued to stare at her. “You and me, we made a promise,” she replied firmly. “I keep my promises.”

“We made a promise for when we get free,” he said in a monotone. “You looked ‘round this place yet?”

“Well,” she conceded reluctantly. “This could be as good as we ever get. You and me, right here, the rest of the world all on the other side of that door. That’s more than we’ve gotten in a long time.”

“Now would be great,” he admitted. “But…”

“But what?” she pressed, leaning closer to him, trying to remember what it felt like to be seductive.

He sighed and shook his head, leaning away. “Not here.”

She wasn’t sure why she was so disappointed. Her hands fell to her sides. “Why not?”

“Because.” She waited. He raised his eyebrows at her. “You know."

“I really don’t.”

“I ain’t gonna do nothin’ to you. Not when…” he gestured, sputtering, still unable to find the words.

“Scott,” Rachel said. She felt impatient. “I’m sure about this. But if you changed your mind, about me, or-“

“No,” he said quickly. “That ain’t it at all.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Do I gotta say it?”

She blinked. “Spell it out for me.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t wanna knock you up,” he blurted out, and then closed his eyes for a moment.

“What?” she asked, stunned.

He gestured to the cold bathroom surrounding them. “You see any condoms ‘round here?”

“Oh,” she said quietly. She glanced down reflexively at her stomach, considering the ramifications of what he was suggesting.  “I didn’t even…”

“Seriously,” Scott said in a low voice. “This is all I want right now. More than anything. But I can’t put you through nothin’ like that. Who knows what he’d…” He closed his eyes. “I… seen how it affected him,” he waved a hand in Homer’s direction. “All this time, not knowin’, and I ain’t goin’ there.” His voice was unusually fierce. “I can’t.”

“Fuck,” Rachel sighed. She leaned back against the counter. “You deserve this.”

“Not at your expense.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head firmly.

“Nothing’s at my expense,” she snapped. “I deserve something good, too. Okay? We both deserve a lot more than what we got. But we got this. So forget about what’s going on out there, forget about what’s happening next. All right? Just focus on right now. On me. On this.” She took a step closer to him and he closed his eyes.

“Rachel,” he sighed, “you ain’t makin’ this easier.”

“I’m not trying to. You smell nice.”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” he spat back. “I look like a creature from the black lagoon. My last shower was, like, a decade ago.”

“Oh, like you can’t smell me from two miles away right now.”

He smirked, but didn’t deny it. “Guess neither one of us is rollin’ in sex appeal.”

“You may have noticed, but I don’t care.”

“Fuck you. We ain’t cashin’ in that pact today, and that’s final.”

“Okay,” she continued, licking her lips. “How about this? We just… help each other out, for now, and the full pact is still on. Someday.”

His face lit up with cautious relief as he considered this. “Huh.”

“I told you. I keep my promises.” And she wanted it more than ever right now. In all the years she’d spent with Scott, he’d never been as attractive to her as he was right now, trying to worry about her in spite of his increasingly obvious arousal.

“Can’t argue with that.” He licked his lips. “So… what should I do?” he asked hesitantly, looking up at her. His face was surprisingly innocent. It wasn’t what she expected.

“Just touch me,” she said, moving toward him. “Please? I really, really need to be touched.”

“Where?” he asked, his breath starting to come heavier as he moved toward her, his hands tentatively reaching for the air around her.

“Anywhere. God.”

Their hands met slowly, each one hesitant and yet determined at the feel of each other. He ran his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, to her back, and she shivered again. It had been so long since anyone had touched her that way. With affection. With care. With _desire_.

“That okay?” he breathed.

“It’s okay,” she replied urgently. The truth was, she hadn’t realized how very much okay it would be.

“You ain’t gonna regret this,” he breathed, stepping back leaning back for a moment against the closed door, his eyes traveling up and down her.

She watched his hesitation. “You sure you’re ready?”

He stepped closer to her, his breath growing heavier. “I been ready for this for a long fuckin’ time,” he muttered.

She nodded and closed her eyes, letting him move in again. His hands felt cool as they brushed up under her shirt. She lifted her arms and let him roll it off her.   

She _knew_ she should be picturing him as someone else. It would be so much better that way. It would be easier for both of them if this wasn’t Scott. Her friend. Her brother-

_No_. She could never feel this way about a brother.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what she liked, and she, in turn, tried to figure out what he wanted based on his soft moans and urgent grunts. It wasn’t hard. He was incredibly responsive. As they gently explored each other, stroking places where neither had been touched in years, something began to change.

Rachel was feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it wasn’t just from being touched.

Scott moved in unexpectedly, his eyes closed, and his lips brushed hers. She pulled back immediately in surprise.

“What?” he asked, shaking his head and looking at her, noticing the sudden change in her response.

“I - I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I didn’t…”

She thought for a moment, then leaned back in, her decision made. In the back of her mind, something screamed at her that kissing was definitely _not_ in the pact, that this changed everything, that there was no way for all of this not to mean something now. But now she was here, discovering things that she never knew about him, and she wanted it.

He was passionate, but tender. His movements were downright reverential.

Even as her body responded urgently to his advances, she found herself overwhelmed with the sudden realization that this wasn’t just physical for him. 

She’d always felt some wry affection for him, but now that those affections were taking on a physical manifestation, she found herself wracked with ambivalence.

Did Scott have feelings for her?

Was it possible that she might even share them?

Could her own affection for him be deeper than she had realized? As his body pressed against hers and his hands sought her out in one place after another, she found it increasingly difficult to form a coherent thought. All she knew was that she wanted, no, she _needed_ more from him.

His body did carry the marked taste of years of neglect and insufficient hygiene, and she was sure that hers did too, but somehow, strangely, it wasn’t unpleasant. Instead, it was like an old friend, circling around her, reminding her that all of a sudden, she wasn’t alone anymore, for the first time in a long time. They were together in this. She could sense his lust beneath all the other smells, and it awakened some long buried desire in her, too.

They were the same, and they were together.

When both of them had finished – true to his promise, Scott made sure she was taken care of, too – they sank to the floor together, leaning against the door. She let him wrap his arms around her, pulling her to his chest, controlled and possessive. And it felt _good_. She could hear the rapid pounding of his heart as his beard brushed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, taking him in with all of her other senses. His arms tightened around her.

She pulled back, opening her eyes to stare at his face. He studied her in return, his eyes glassy. She wasn’t sure whether he took his cue from her, if perhaps her mouth opened just enough to tell him that it was okay, but he leaned in again, kissing her once more, gently this time. Her eyes fell closed again.

“Wow,” Scott breathed as he pulled away. “I forgot about everything for a little bit there. Didn’t you?” He brushed her hair back behind her ears, studying her face for every reaction.

“Mmmm,” Rachel murmured, snuggling back into him. “But the hard part isn’t over.”

“I know,” he said, pulling her close, clinging to her. “I don’t wanna go back out there.”

“We have to,” she said in a whisper. “The others-”

“Let ‘em wait.” He brushed her cheek with his hand.

“Stop.” She reached up to his hand and pushed it down. “This was good, Scott.”

“Yeah.” His hand refused to let hers go, his fingers wriggling their way to freedom and gently exploring her palm, tracing the lines of her hands.

“Were you pretending I was someone else?”

He was quiet for a long time. “Would you feel better if I was?” he finally asked.

“I need to know the truth.”

“I don’t want that to ruin nothin’,” he sighed.

“No one’s ruining anything,” she promised. His body felt so warm against hers. It felt unexpectedly right. She snuggled into it again. “It’s okay.”

She felt him shift beneath her. “My whole life, all I ever been good at is drivin’ people away. Only reason it never worked on none of y’all is you couldn’t leave.”

“Scott…”

“I suck at the people thing. All I’m good at is fuckin’ shit up.” His words came fast and intense. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, I don’t wanna fuck nothin’ up. Not with you.”

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

She licked her lips. “I wasn’t pretending you were someone else, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he sighed. “Don’t make this somethin’ it ain’t.”

As he spoke, she could feel her heart breaking. She sat up and drew back to look at him. “You wanna know why you’re so good at driving people away?"

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

“Because you’re already planning the end of this, and we haven’t even figured out how to start.”

He chuckled lightly, but then his face fell. “Listen,” he said quietly. “Soon as we go back out there, this is over. All right? We don’t know what’s comin’ next. This don’t mean nothin’. It can’t. We just got a few minutes where you and me weren’t nobody’s prisoners, where we weren’t in no cage, where we could do whatever the fuck we want, and nobody could fuckin’ stop us.” His intensity, the passion behind his words, touched her in a place she wasn’t expecting. “But… even with all that, it ain’t....”

She waited until it became clear he couldn’t finish the sentence. “What do you mean?”

He was silent for a long time.  He reached out to finger the edge of her shirt with something that looked like regret. She shivered at the sight of his hands on her clothing. “All I know is, this is hard enough already.”

“It’s fine, Scott,” she said. She put her hand over his and traced along his knuckles. “I get it.”

“It ain’t that,” he said firmly. He gestured at the door, where they both knew Homer and Renata were waiting for them on the other side. “What that guy’s been goin’ through? I don’t have it in me.” He released a heavy sigh.

“We’re still prisoners,” she said with a slow nod. “We just got a little time to pretend like we weren’t.”

“If we weren’t,” Scott said, “if things were different…” He looked at her with the question in his eyes.

“Maybe,” she said softly. “Someday.”

His grip on her tightened again. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t want him to see how much she suddenly wanted this, more than anything. 

She heard him suck in a sharp, wet breath, and she realized that he, too, was fighting back his emotions.

She pulled away from him enough to free her arm, and she reached for her jacket, which had been thrown into the corner of the bathroom in their haste. She fumbled for the pocket until she found what she was looking for and closed her hand around it.

“Here.” She held out her fist.

“What’s that?” he asked, not moving his hands from where they were resting on her belly.

“It’s another promise,” she said softly. “From me.”

He reached out his hand, and she gently rested her coat button on his palm. His fingers closed around it. “That’s it, then?”

She placed her hand over his closed fist, wrapping her fingers around it and holding it tight. “You know I keep my promises.”

“Rachel,” he whispered, and moved in to her again, his eyes closing, his lips opening, no question about what he wanted. What he needed. She wanted to push him away, to end it, but she needed just one more moment, too. She closed her own eyes and felt him nuzzle into her, the strong scent of him overpowering her, the desire starting up again. Her body arched toward him, then she raised her hand to touch his face and opened her eyes.

“Stop,” she said firmly. He opened his own eyes and sighed deeply. “Before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

She gently hummed to herself as she held him. She didn’t know if he knew the tune, but he relaxed at the sound.

_I want to live where soul meets body_   
_And let the sun wrap its arms around me and_   
_Bathe my skin, in water cool and cleansing_   
_And feel…_   
_Feel what it's like to be new._

_'Cause in my head, there's a Greyhound station_   
_Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations_   
_So they may have a chance of finding a place where they're_   
_Far more suited than here_

_I cannot guess what we'll discover_   
_When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels._   
_But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's_   
_And not one speck will remain_

_I do believe it's true_   
_That there are roads left in both of our shoes,_   
_But if the silence takes you,_   
_Then I hope it takes me too_

_So brown eyes, I'll hold you near_   
_'Cause you're the only song I want to hear_   
_A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere._

The song trailed off and she felt him sigh beneath her.

“Promise,” she whispered.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed faintly. She sat up and turned around to study him. She already missed the feel of him, but she knew it had to stop. They had to separate. It had to end. They didn’t have any other choice. But still… but maybe… someday… “God. I hope you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More details about what's happening in this scene, as well as Homer's perspective, can be found in Fortune and the Wolf, Chapter 2. 
> 
> Song lyrics from 'Soul Meets Body', written by Benjamin Gibbard and performed by Death Cab for Cutie, from the album Plans.


End file.
